


Smaller War's

by Random_Human



Series: ShinIchi Week 2019 [2]
Category: Bleach
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Heavy Angst, I'm Sorry, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Not Beta Read, Pre-Slash, ShinIchi Week 2019, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-04
Updated: 2019-02-04
Packaged: 2019-10-22 06:29:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17657693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Random_Human/pseuds/Random_Human
Summary: They were losing this ceaseless battle, finally pushed back after months of head-to-head conflict. The Arrancar had only been the beginning, their so-called final battle, the WinterWarnothing but an empty moniker compared to what was to come.





	Smaller War's

**Author's Note:**

> Shinichi Day 2 - Time Travel
> 
> So... This happened. Again I had no idea where I was going with this. I love time travel fic's, and my story ran away from me. That said, while this fic is a bit savage I did like where it was going so I may add more chapters in the future (depending on how lazy I am).
> 
> Happy reading?

They were losing this ceaseless battle, finally pushed back after months of head-to-head conflict. The Arrancar had only been the beginning, their so-called final battle, the Winter _War_ nothing but an empty moniker compared to what was to come. After all had been one, after that final battle, after they had fought for a cause that was barely theirs, only desperately trying to defend themselves and their family. After it all – but before the dust had settled, wouldn’t want anyone escaping after all. After it all came the bloodbath. 

Before he had believed in heroes. Believed in doing what was right, living up to the name of _number one protector_ … Before. But what was left when he had no one to protect? 

\--- 

There had been many names for it. The assassination. Night of death. Killing spree. But massacre had become most popular. For it was a massacre. It was the cold-blooded killing of all who could not escape. It was Onmitsukidō rising from the darkness, bonds formed in a-few-hours old battle forgotten in favour of rules and regulation. 

It was his sisters, killed in the night, with nought but a whisper as their final breath left their bodies. It was Goat-face – Isshin – waking in a flash and dying even faster. It was the knowledge that Isshin had died as a Shinigami, and that their fruitless searching of the Rukongai was for nought. That missions run in the dead of night, hearts beating with rightful paranoia, lives of those few unseated Shinigami that _had_ sided with them were lost for nothing. The knowledge that his father, his sisters, his friends and comrades, were never returning, lost to the science of a madman and the prejudice of their so-called commanders.

This war was not as blatant as those it succeeded. It was fought not on a battlefield, but on the run. It was fought in small hotels and isolated forests. It was fruitless raids on the Sereiti. Lives lost on a daily basis. Hope lost far sooner. 

Surprisingly – or not really, for they were the strongest, but statistically at least – it was the Visored that held out the longest. The protections forged by years old hate and paranoia finally fulfilled, as they were able to hold their ground. Abandoning the simple warehouse that had become home, abandoning a town filled with new allies and friends to _run_.

But they were a broken people. Hachi and Kensei lost in that first battle. Rose in the days following, Love in his desperate attempt at revenge. Ichigo and Kisuke – who had joined them scant hours later – already shattered by the loss of their loved ones. Their tight-knit group riddled with holes and fractures. Mashiro was next, hollow taken over in a desperate attempt to save those left. Lisa was a surprise, a casual skirmish turned deadly. But what finally broke Shinji, broke their oldest and the only one really holding them together, was the loss of Hyori. His closest friend and confidant, his companion in banter and sarcasm, skewered, Soifon's eyes emotionless as she declared, “Three left.”

They tried, oh did they try. They kept running, kept fighting, kept surviving. But surviving was not living, and the fight had all but left them. 

So here they were. Their final stand. Final escape. Final attempt at retribution. 

“Kisuke – ” Ichigo tried, tried to reason, tried one final attempt to save.  
“No.” He was cut off. “No. You know that someone has to activate the device. Someone has to stay. You know I’m too broken to be of any help. Now get ready. They’re coming.”

They clustered together in one final embrace. The three who had survived for so long – too long, as the world would have them believe.

“Go.”

Shinji and Ichigo looked at one another, faces lined by a weariness they knew would never leave them. They clasped hands, taking comfort in one another, in all they had left. They turned towards the portal. Jumped. A sickening swirl of colour. They were gone.

“Goodbye,” Kiskue said to the empty air, turning to face the oncoming swarm of Reiatsu. Smiling in the face of a deserved death.

**Author's Note:**

> I’m sorry. Why can I only write angst? I mean I was planning on Killing off Shinji as well so … you’re welcome?


End file.
